Page 178 - The Art of Learning by Josh Waitzkin_Neat plip book
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preparation,  there  is  nothing  like  that   feeling  of  icy  reality  that   hi ts  whe n  the
                opening bell is near.

                    At  the  weigh  station  reality  sunk  in  one  step  deeper   when   we  saw  Che n  Ze-
                Cheng  and  his  team—the  dominant  school  in  the  world.  He  was  the   guy   who
                had  beaten  me  two  years  earlier  and    who m  I  had   been   pr eparing   for  all  thi s
                time.  I  walked  over  and  said  hello,  and  Chen   told  me  that   he  was  compe ting

                under  75  kilos  (165.3  pounds),  the  weight   division  below  me.  I  was  sho cke d.  I
                had  spent  two  years  dreaming  about  this  great  fighter,  strategizing  agai nst  his
                sinuous   cat-quick   game;   in   my   mind,   winni ng   the   world   champi ons hi p   ha d
                meant  defeating  Chen  Ze-Cheng.  But   then   he  po int ed  toward  thei r  guy   in  my

                division  and  I  took  a  deep  breath.  They   called  him  Buf falo  and  he  looke d  like
                pure  power.  In  Taiwan  he  was  cons ider ed  unbeat able.  He’d  been     gr oomed    to
                become  a  world  champion  since  he  was  a  young       boy.  He  was  a  little  sho rter
                than  me  and  much  thicker.     He  weighed   in   at  79.96   ki los  (176.3   po unds ).   I

                weighed  in  at  78.16.  He  was  four  pounds   heavier  than   me  and     proba bl y  cut
                fifteen pounds to make weight. T he g uy  was a daunt ing phy sical spe cimen.
                    After  the  weigh-in,  my  team  and  I  went  and  checked   out   the  Moving  Step
                ring.  I  felt  the  traction  of  the  mats,  then   moved  around   a  little.  Immedi ately

                alarm  bells  were  going  off—the  ring      seemed  too  small.   Tour nam ent   offi  ials
                had  sent  us  rules  and  ring  dimensions   mont hs   ago :  a  six-meter-di ameter  circle.
                We  used  their  precise  dimensions  to  set  up  our   training   mats  for  bo th  Fi xed
                and  Moving.  I  had  internalized  the  di mensions   of  the  circle  and  kne w  exactly

                how it felt when my heel was a quarter inch from the  edge.  If you  step  over the
                border  in  Moving  Step  you  lose  a  po int ,  and  in  the  flur ries  of  action  the re  is  no
                time   to   look   down—ring    sense   is   hugel y   impo rtant.   We   measur ed   and   the
                diameter  was  fifteen  inches  smaller  than   what   they   had   sent  us .  Thi s  was  the

                second   dirty   trick   and   the   matches    had n’t   even   beg un.   So   we   had   to   adj us t.
                Typical, b ut there was nothing to be g ained by  get ting w orked  up a bo ut  it.
                    We walked to the hotel in the rain,  ate a bi g  meal,  and  came back  at 10      A.M.
                fueled for battle. The Fixed and Moving  compet itions  woul d  be go ing  on  at the

                same  time.  Two  rings  would  be  used  for  Moving  Step,  thr ee  for  Fi xed.  Weight
                divisions   were   every   five   kilos,   with   men   and   women   compet ing   sepa rately.
                Over  four  thousand  competitors  from  all  over  the  world  were  milling  around,
                and  the  stadium  was  mobbed  with  fans,  many  of  them   chanting  eupho ni cally

                in  languages  I  didn’t  understand.  It  was  a  great,  lilting,  hypno tic  sound.  Acres
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